Forbidden Dancer
by Gigi the Dancer
Summary: In a country where dance is forbidden.... What does one do? Adapt or break the rules? The tragic tale of an exile.
1. Chapter 1

**In a country where dance is forbidden... What does one do? Adapt or break the rules? ****You sometimes dance and do not realize you are dancing.**

She pulled off the soft leather shoes. They were stretched out from her wearing them to every dance in the past year.

Dance was beautiful. It was too powerful. It was more powerful than any other art form, for it was pure. "Music" the shamans say, the people _believe_ is more pure. Yet it is not. For music's themes can be corrupted and when you dance the movement originates in your soul to your body. You sometimes dance and do not realize you are dancing.

She was a dancer. Yet in this kingdom of light and beauty dance was forbidden. Here they worshiped the Gods by singing and making music. They were not very rhythmic songs either as the High Priest did not want to encourage dancing.

As she slowly put her beautiful leather shoes away she let a tear flow down her cheek. 'Dancers are forbidden here" she said to herself. And so she began her life again.

She was a maid with a noble household and she was a devote and pious temple goer. She tried to glean her feeling about hope and life from the songs yet they never really spoke to her. She was a wonderful singer with a rich clear voice but without spirit that dance had once given her.

Even her mistress Lady Azalea remarked on it once. '"You have a good set of pipes Giselle but not a good song.'" she had remarked to her when she had come down to the kitchens one day. Lady Azalea was not one to take criticism from lightly.

She was a famous singer, who once past her prime had trained all the Royal Court and the temple singers. Her daughters Lady Olivia and Lady Alicia were the most popular and most requested singers in the Court.

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	2. An intimate discourse with the Lady

"One of my daughters will become Queen." Lady Azalea had told her once as she brushed out her hair.

"And how do you know, milady?'

"It is promised to me. The Queen, (Long may she live) has admitted to me that she was not the greatest singer when she married the King. She was chosen by the High Priest because she was the most spirited and the most devote singer."

"The King and Queen were not a love match?" she questioned wondrously.

"Oh no," said her mistress with a chuckle. "Queen Lucia and King Andre hated each other at first. But the love of the Song and the beauty of their harmony brought them into the Gods' Love.' Giselle nodded her head. She had seen this happen in her own country. Some people just had the luck of the dance, falling into sync with trust and devotion.

"But what about Lady Alicia and Olivia?"

"The High Priest already favors them for their devotion to their training. They train underneath my tutelage longer than his own successors have. He has watched them grow and become technically proficient and able to read music better than anyone in Court even the King."

"What instrument does the King favor?' she asked as she started to undo Azalea's corset.

"Oh he plays about seven proficiently but he loves to play the violin."

"Yes. The violin is my favorite too." she agreed.

"Yes the violin suits you child" concurred Azalea. "You seem to favor the sadness of the songs. I happen to favor the pipes myself."

Giselle giggled. It was a common saying that one who favored the flutes was 'an effervescent spirit of fun." Yet with Lady Azalea's iron fist on training her protégées and daughters she could hardly imagine it.

'When I was young it was more easy to see my favoritism." said Azalea washing her face. Giselle nodded as she emerged from the dressing room.

"Good night my lady." she said as she gathered the dirty clothes to take to the laundry.

'Stay." commanded Lady Azalea.

"My Lady?" she asked biting her lip.

"Sing something."she commanded from her seat on the vanity stool.

"Now?" Giselle asked.

"Yes." Giselle pulled on a dark curl and started singing a well known hymn.

"No,' cut off Lady Azalea. "Sing something from your heart.' As Giselle just stared down at the floor blushing, Lady Azalea revised her command. 'Sing something from your childhood then."

"My lady. I did not grow up in this country."

"Yes. But everyone has songs to sing. I won't let you leave this room until you sing. And I shall have you whipped tomorrow." she said with annoyance.

Giselle bowed her head in submission. Then a happy joyful tune sprang out of her mouth as a wellspring from the ground.

"Come! Come! The dancers are here!

Dance, dance away your fear.

Time, time for joy and laughter

Tears and kisses come after.

Pick, pick up your feet.

Get, get off your seat.

Swing! Swing to and fro!

Ready! Here we Go!

Move, move through the crowd.

Stomp, stomp really loud.

Circle, circle, round and round

Dance until we hit the ground.

Shh, Shh. It is time for bed

Pick, pick up your sleepy head.

Rock, rock. Sway swift and soft.

Cradle children up aloft.

As she sung the song from one of her happier memories she tapped the carpet with her foot. Soon she would start dancing realized Lady Azalea. "A dancer! You are a dancer!" she cried out in surprise.

Giselle looked up at her. Her face was pale and ashen. "Please don't tell anyone. I swear I haven't broken the laws! I have been a good girl. Please! I haven't danced since I came here." She said stricken to Lady Azalea.

"Oh. Child." whispered Azalea kindly. "_Why_ did you come here?"

"I had to."

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	3. Chapter 3

"I had to come here..."

"What do you mean child?" asked Lady Azalea as she drank her tea and ate a bowl of oatmeal.

"Oh. My Lady. It is a dark and tragic tale, my life was before I came here." Giselle was picking out the attire Azalea would wear for the day. She was brushing out a flowing silk dress. It was cobalt blue in color.

"Tell me."

"Please my lady.. I have chores to do. I have to clean the foyer and wash the laundry and mend Lady Alicia's pink gown with the flowers on it." Azalea sternly looked at her.

"Yes My Lady." Giselle slowly brushed her dark black curls from her collarbone and walked to the door. Locking it she turned slowly back to her Mistress. She lowered her voice and began her tale. "When I was seven my Mother became ill. She had a terrible wasting disease that was ravaging the Court in Terpsichorea. I prayed to the Gods to spare her but she became smaller and smaller. Her vitality was sapped until she could not walk. She could not dance and she could barely whisper. Her last words to me stated that I would be given to the Temple and would train as a priestess. If I worked hard I could earn a place in the King's Dancers. Then I would get much attenttion and perhaps a man would be my patron..."

"You were training to be a courtesan?"

"Oh indeed. Courtesans are first trained as dancers. The art of seduction begins with a dance and the way we worship begins with a dance. There is no better way to train than in Temple dancing.The training is quite rigorous and exacting. The time we put into perfection is the way we are treated consequently. We are either lavished in the praise and the feelings of the Gods or in the love and ardor of our patrons."

"Ah. I see. You either train for a Gods love or a mans love." She grinned with her pearly white teeth.

"So I joined the Royal Temple in the City of Sangria. This was our capital and it was magnificent. The streets were gray cobbles and the walls of the city were built from red marble, The houses were either built from marble or in plaster. The walls of the poorer sections were made of plaster but everyone frescoed it. You could be quite comfortable walking the poorer sections of the city for it was kept up due to the prettiness of the frescoes. All the neighbors tried to outdo each other and that was the most bloodshed in Sangria. The Temple was made of white marble in a red and gray city. Not even the palace was made from white marble. The palace instead was made of pink shimmering marble." She paused and started tidying the Lady's bed. "I was an exceptional dancer the best of my age group and the best of the novices. The High Priest soon took an interest in me though I was unaware of it..." a long pause with a blush on her pale cheeks

"... we were to dance in the festival of Mid Summer when the High Priestess broke her foot. She could not dance through it and so when she looked for a replacement.. I was the one chosen. The priestesses were already delegated roles and so she had to choose a novice. I was the only one who seemed to please her...At the summer festival we danced like always but when I stepped into the High Priestess's role everyone saw me in a new light. The High Priestess's costume is very..." she paused looking for an apropiate word "..scanty. That night as I sat on the wall of the Temple, my mind absorbibg the day's events when a handsome young warrior came looking for me. We soon became... fond of each other but one day when I finally became a King's Dancer and he would be allowed to seek my attentions... a disaster struck."

Tears were bluring her vision at this point as she tied Azalea's corset.

"Well child?" asked Azalea looking back at her.

"I...'sniffle'..I...'sob'...I..."she broke down crying. Azalea turned away from the bedpost and hugged the sobbing servant.

"Shh..." she whispered soothingly to the girl. When Giselle calm down from her enormous sobs she finished telling her story.

"I disgraced myself in front of the kingdom one night at the Winter Festival. The King's dancers have costumes made for themselves every year and they pay for it with their patron's money. I had a beautiful dress made and beautiful props. When I went for shoes I could not find any. My cobbler had died and his son had not taken over his shop like what was promised. So I began looking around for a new pair of shoes. Soon I gained through a friend a pair fo shoes that was never worn..."

"I broke them in for the dance. I was ready. Every step memorized and every bar of music secured to my steps."

"What Happened!" Asked Lady Azalea eagerly.

"Why I was disgraced..."

"Yes but How?"

Please R and R... Thanks for the reveiwes!

Gigi


	4. The winter festival

_Thank you for the reviews! I am so grateful for the critiques and erudite wisdom of my dear sweet readers! --gigi_

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_"What Happened?" Asked Lady Azalea eagerly._

"I was very proud of myself. I had on the most diaphanous dress possible and the most exotic jewelry. I was wearing a light blue dress the color of a reflection on the ice. I had on a crystalline tiara with pink points of creamy pearls on it to match the light shade of my stockings and my shoes.

The shoes were beautiful. They were finely hand made and the color was exquisite. They had blue ribbons attached to it at the ankle. They were even marked by the shoe maker. One of a kind. Made on commission.

I did not know then that they were the castoffs of Princess Cadence Grace Adriana Lumpopon, Dancer of the Realm. Oh I did not know but I would soon enough."

Giselle smiled bitterly." I arrived fashionably late and was whisked away by the bevy of courtiers who wished to dance with me. I truly had the knack of making the worst dancer look like the best just because I followed the lead so well. The night was joyous and gay. It was very beautiful and fun. It was almost the close of the festivities. We would have the King's Chosen dance and the King and his family would make requests for dancers to show them the latest dance they had performed. We would drink the blessing of the Winter in robust red wine and leave.

I was requested to dance by the King. He knew of the High Priest's lust for me and he wished to favor him with my dancing. You see I would train but hardly anyone would see me dance as I was a dawn dancer. I would train and dance my rituals and routines before the rest of the Temple knew of my being awake. The High Priest did not like this as he could not see me dance all the time. He could not 'supervise' my training. So I danced a bit reluctantly on my part.

I was nervous for it was a great pressure to dance in front of all the Court and my potential benefactors. If I messed this up, which I had not specifically trained for, I was destined to be an orphan and priestess the rest of my life. It would not be a hardship but I knew I had to continue my family's lineage. It was a point of pride for myself if not to anyone else. I could not therefore disgrace myself. I needed a benefactor and concurrently couldn't be a priestess if I wished to continue my line.

Anyway As I took my position, a shout swept through the crowd. The Princess, a stunning vision in her empire waisted chiffon and satin plum colored robes stalked up to me.

Tears gathered in her cobalt blue eyes. Her proud chin quivered and she loudly hissed through her perfectly plump red lips. "You whore!"

Sorry for the explicative... (blushes)


	5. Chapter 5

I could not refuse to dance now. I had accepted to dance before the King and the Court. To flee in shame and dismay would surely admit my guilt. I would also deprive them of their entertainment. I was accused of a high crime. Punishable by death. At that moment I was still a priestess forbidden to take a lover. I had to sort this out after I danced... If I still lived.

I slowly took my position. The musicians asked to what music I was to dance. Naming an ancient song about a famous hero called _Kontinura the Dragon Slayer_, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Releasing it my arms fluttered over my head and my voice soon joined them.

I danced it seemed like through liquid. My movements did pertain to time or space. My body did not fatigue, it felt young and fresh dipping in a fountain of lyrically slow music, an adagio tempo. I had everyone's attention and everyone's eyes followed my nubile body.

I could feel the burning intense gaze of the high priest. I could feel the venomous glance of the princess. I could feel the envy and lust and longing of the entire Court focused on me. The King just watched me fascinated.

I suppose I was a puzzle to him. A beautiful young dancer with the fascination of the most powerful man in the city and yet I refused and took up with another man. Then again the High Priest never did declare his feelings for me. That would be too gauche. I was young and graceful, an orphan who could become great if only I lived long enough.

I ended my long and sorrowful ballad my body comfortably in the splits on the pink marble floor in front of the King. I was anxious, nervous. Could I depend upon the High Priest? What would I have to do to get out of punishment? What would I have to sacrifice, besides my body? My mind whirled even more than my body had. My thoughts raced around underneath my elaborate hairdo. My body shivered in fright.

"Father." Floated the Princess's voice. "This woman is a whore. She has sold her body to Lord Lamontev for that pair of shoes. I know this because those shoes had been mine which I gave to him as an eternal promise of love."

"Is this true Priestess...er... Giselle? Did you give yourself to Lord Lamontev even though you clearly still are a priestess? "

"My Lord! Please. I have _never _sold my body to anyone. I know what I have at stake to risk taking a lover. _Please." _ I blushed "I...I did not have any shoes for my cobbler has died. I could not find any shoes when a friend of mine found them for me. I don't know how these shoes passed out of Lamontev's possession. All I know is that I bought those shoes on the Rue d'Orangia from a shop girl."

"Lord Lamontev. Come here.' The King gestured imperiously to the crowd of velveted courtiers. A younger nobleman in bright blue, like a peacock stepped forward and bowed to the King.

"What a lovely pair.They even match." said Princess Cadence referring to our outfits. I blushed furiously red. She really wanted the Court to think I had consorted with this nobleman.

"Lord Lamontev."

"Yes My Lord?"

"Did you sleep with this Priestess for the price of a pair of shoes?" I trembled awaiting his answer. _Please dear Deities, I thought. Do not let me die._

"My Lord...I am an honorable man. I would tell you if I had ever slept with a Priestess. I don't think I ever have although I wouldn't mind my lord. " He grinned personably up to the monarch. Everyone gasped at his audacity for saying he had wished to sleep with a priestess. Yet everyone knew that he was a flirt and had an off color personality like that.

"Then how did those shoes end up out of your hands?"

"Ah. My Lord. You see ..."

Hello! Please read and review. I love reviews. They help me write. (Hint) It might take me some time for the prose between now and going back to the present. Yet the story shall be told and I have written a poem...soon. My darlings. Just you wait!


	6. An unexpected thing

To my reviewers... do you really all think I shall hurt my dear dancer? make her fall even? I would never even think of the idea! I wouldn't wish that on an enemy let alone a character in my story...

"Ah. My Lord. You see I have been a diligent suitor and hopeful bastard waiting on the Princess Cadence since she was first available for courting. I have had the privilege of declaring my love for her.

Yet sadly I am not worth her time nor effort because she gave me her new shoes as a false promise of eternal love. I know this because after I left her that fateful moonlit night, I went to a friend's house where he showed me the pair of shoes _she_ had given _him_ the night before. Those shoes were even more elaborate. And they were more expensively made than the shoes in question was leading us on and _I _ would not follow willingly.

I said not a word to my friend. I did not wish to wreck his grand illusions but I quietly went off at dawn and drank myself into oblivion at a tavern in the city. I suppose during those days I must have gotten rid of the shoes somehow. Whether I passed them off to a bar doxie or to a pair of lovers I was too far under to even remember."

"Ah. I see. Well Lord Lamentov you are very informative." Lamentov bowed and walked sauntered off to the punch table.

The Princess stood impassively next to her father through out this small anecdote of deceit on her part. She knew she would never be abandoned by her lovers and suitors, if a few left her august company for this then it would be well and good for her.

"My King." addressed a member of the court. "This does not clear up the bother with the Priestess. If she slept with someone to gain the shoes..." Tears welled in my eyes. Being accused of some things hurt.

"Please my lord." I sobbed. I had assumed the obeisance that a slave uses. Kowtowing all the way to the ground. Not looking up.

The King must have looked down at me. "Beautiful." He said.

"My lord?" asked a courtier puzzled at the odd exclamative remark.

"The Priestess is quite beautiful. I believe I wish to pardon her." he said. I blushed down at my reflection on the polished pink marble.

"But she will just go out and have another lover." muttered someone.

"Ah. But what does it matter? She won't be in our country.' said the King. '

"What do you mean?' I said, looking up. Seeing his face smile down at me somewhat sympathetically I realized what he meant. I was to be an exile. To leave my home. I was terrified. I did not ever want to leave Sangria or Terpsichorea .

"Please my lord! I do not want to leave. Do not exile me. Please! I will do anything! Please my lord!"

I ran to my lord's very feet. Placing my hands on the ground I bowed my head over his highly polished dancing shoes. They were quite beautiful. They also had the mark of my own cobbler on it. Perhaps he too had to find a new cobbler after that good for nothing son had not opened the shop on his father's decease.

I am on a tangent, My lady forgive me. I am keeping you from your daughters...I am holding up your day and the progression of the gods benevolence."

I looked up at Lady Azalea. She was smiling sadly at me. "Yes child. We should go about our tasks. The Song master (meaning the High God) does not like it when we shirk our duties." She sighed and turned back to the mirror on her vanity. Placing her hand delicately on a small wooden jewelry box it sprang open at her touch. She selected out a silver chain and brooch. Sliding a large sapphire ring on her left hand, the jewel shone darkly at me. "Come here and help me."

I fastened the long silver chain around her slim neck three times letting it gracefully cascade to her décolletage. She handed me the heavy brooch. It was shaped like a upside crescent. The outer edges were silver filigree and the inside of the heavy pure silver was a woman dressed in fiery red, representing the Lovely Goddess, the Phoenix bird. Smiling at the familiar picture, I bent down to pin it on her bodice.

"No Giselle not there." I looked up startled and swiftly pulled the large spike from her thin silk dress.

She took the pin from my hands held it up to her chest, looked at herself in the mirror and then before I could protest pinned it to my dress.

"Lady what are you doing? I asked quite shocked and scared. After all when the last thing one has received is a pair of shoes that made one an exile can you blame my reaction?


	7. Chapter 7

"I know that the people of Terpsichorea worship the Lovely goddess in the same shape and form we do. I thought that you might want the Lovely Goddess talisman I myself had when I was a young woman. It will keep watch over you. It will help guide you through your troubles."

"My lady." I said stunned. Tears gathered at the crinkles of my red and puffy eyes. "I cannot accept this gift. I am but a servant. What will your pulchritudinous daughters think? I..I.. do not wish to be punished my Lady."

"I understand your fear Giselle." she said gently. But she continued on in her stern voice. " Yet I am insisting on you keeping it. My daughters do not know of the brooch nor will anyone think you slept with anyone else for it. As for your being a servant I almost think of you like a daughter. After all would I hug just any old servant? Not even my childhood Nurse." She winked at me and resumed painting her lips again.

"Why do you think so highly of me my lady? What have I done to deserve such merit? I am very flattered but..."

She looked at me with a steely glance. "Child, do not think I am doing this through the goodness of my heart. I do have ulterior motives." She stood up gracefully.

Smoothing her skirts she walked to the large wooden doors of her bedroom.

"Giselle, Come to my rooms about 2 o'clock today. Be ready to go out." I looked questioningly at her.

"You are being fitted for court clothes." I paled at the news, nodded and when she exited I collapsed on the freshly made bed.

Court. The word echoed in my head. It was the fantastical magical place where graceful men and women danced in the most shimmering of colors and there was a kaleidoscope of laughter and gaiety. There was odd strains of festive music and glowing swirls of magic and whispering winds of the Gods blessing.

It was a world I was quite familiar with in my own home. Not in the country of the musical maniacs. They were intent on only the beauty visible to them and did not care about the line and length of the dance.

I sighed looking at the small dent I had made in the bed. I unpinned the brooch and hid in my apron pocket. I smoothed out the coverlet and picked up the breakfast tray. I balanced it on my head picked up the dirty body linens and walked down the corridor. The hall was one of the larger in the chateau of the Lady Azalea. It was the one that all the family bedrooms opened off of. The lord's chambers were on the corner of the house. They were empty now. The lord had died a few years before.

Giselle had met him only once. He had been the only one to even think to hire her, out of his kindness. He had gone away the next day and had been attacked and killed on the road. Lady Azalea's rooms were attached to it with a sitting room in between and a nursery on the far side. It still had a cradle and a child's chair in it. "For my grandchildren." she had said with a hopeful smile. Then were Alicia and Olivia's rooms made almost in exact replications of each other. They were practically twins Giselle thought along with half the people who knew them in the city.

The corridor was filled with bright sunlight. The rose colored draperies sparkled and the tapestries of the family had brave and noble deeds of prowess on them. She turned right, turned down the next corridor and walked down the main staircase. The servants stair was in the other part of the house. The marble steps were highly polished and her worn leather slippers did not even shush on the way down.

As she walked across the foyer a knock sounded at the door. Hoping one of the man servants were about she continued to the back to the laundry. Dropping off her linens, the knock came louder an even more urgent staccato beat. "Open in the name of the King." said a muffled voice on the other side.

Sighing she wrenched open the door to see a Rider. Dressed in the dusty clothes of a messenger,he handed her a missive with a flourish. Taking the rolled slice of creamy parchment she took it asked and if there was to be a reply. He shook his head.

'Oh. Forgive me. Come inside good sir." She stood back from the door and allowed the dusty errand rider to traverse the marble foyer. Wincing at the flecks of dirt trailing the errand rider she hoped the Head of Household, Henri would not whip her for it.

Taking the errand rider's gloved hand she led him through the maze of backstairs corridors to the Kitchen. Sitting him down at the table she put a goblet and a plate in front of him. She peeked into the pot Cook had over the fire. Today despite the early hour was simmering a pot of vegetable soup. Taking a clean bowl off the china hutch she ladled some for the man. It was not as thick as she would like but he had come quite early in the morning.

She set the bowl of soup in front of him along with a few slices of thick bread and a small dish of shredded white cheese.

The rider smiled at her and thanked her in a rich deep baritone. She smiled at him and then went into the cool pantry to get him a drink.

It always surprised her that everyone in this country had dulcet tones. She poured the deep red claret from the Southern Lands in a small jug and gave it to the man. His name was Marco de Barees. He amiably started chattering to her about Court life and how that even he was a Guard of the Royal household. He informed her that the Prince Solor would come home from his travels. She listened attentively as she mended the pink gown on the bench in front of the fireplace. Lady Alicia had shredded it's hem. Looking at the damage she wondered how it could become like that if one wasn't dancing in it. When Cook came back from the market she said she would keep the messenger rider comfortable. Marco grinned at her and waved as she took up the dress and went to do the rest of her chores. As she looked back at the youth Cook was piling his plate high with food and asking him what it needed.

She sighed the laundry was stewing in the hot water and she added the soft soap used for the Ladies' gowns. As she gently cleaned them with a polished round stick she heard strains of music bubble up out of her memory. She sighed as she remembered the times she shared with her warrior Heliodoro. The soft serenade he had sung to her countless times flowed through her lips.

He had promised her he would protect her when she was cast into the Court. He had loved her and sang to her from the bottom of the temple walls. She wondered where he was now. He had not come for her the night she was cast out. Was he ashamed of her? Or had he not been there that night?

She couldn't even remember now that the night of the Winter Festival was tainted with bad memories. She remembered his strong arms wrapped around her waist cradling her body in a technically difficult lift as they recited prayers in front of the altar of the High God. She remembered the heady scent of his body as they locked eyes and danced their joy in front of the laughing God. They never touched during that dance. They had only connected through their eyes as their bodies moved to the hurried frenzied speed of the tambourines.

He had loved her. He had forgotten her, forsaken her. The warmth of those pleasant memories were engulfed by the cold feeling in the pit of her stomach. She felt sick and walked quickly to the servants' bathroom down the hall. There, her stomach emptied of its contents just like her heart. Tears streamed down her face mingling with the sweat of standing over the boiling laundry. Tears not only stemmed from the acidic taste of the bile but the lost feeling of love. She splashed the cool crisp water over her face. 'I seem to be crying a lot today' she thought. Wind whistled across the small window in the bathroom. The loud sounds of the city's bells drifted to her.

Hurrying to finish the laundry she soaked the clothes in freezing cold water and rinsed them out. Stringing them along the indoor clothes line she dashed to her room. Ripping off her soaked apron and her brown dress she pulled her clothes from her small trunk. She smiled. She could not go to the dressmaker's in darned underwear she thought.

She slipped on the silken undergarments and corset she had brought from Terpsichprea. Donning a light pink dress she slipped on her worn dancing shoes. They were a pair of black heeled slippers. She knew she would need them for the height. She hurriedly dashed up the servants stair to Azalea's room.

"You are late" Giselle. Azalea said in a clipped tone. Alicia and Olivia were sitting about the room clearly waiting for her.

Giselle dropped in a smooth curtsy a low bow and said I am sorry.

Lady Azalea smiled at her. You are dressed up.

'You said I was to be fitted for clothes. She said. I could not go in ragged body linens can I now? mi lady.'

She nodded her head an they walked outside to the carriage. Alicia and Olivia were chatting about the upcoming ball they were getting new dresses for. It was the big event at the Count of lilistra.

They mentioned the name Solor which caused Giselle to jump a bit. "he is coming back home she said.

Alicia 's round green eyes stared at her. How do you know?

"Um... A Royal Rider came to the manor today."

"Why was I not informed? Asked azalea.

"I forgot my lady."embarrassment staining her cheeks.

She pulled the envelope from her pocket. She handed it silently to the woman across from her.

Lady Azalea quickly scanned the message and smirked. "Indeed his Highness Prince Solor is coming home. There will be the Sings to welcome him home." she announced.

Alicia squealed before Azalea shot her eldest 'the look'. Alicia blushed and gave a more subdued 'oh my.' to the news. Immediately Olivia and Alicia started chattering about the sings.

Giselle mindful of her ignorance quietly asked Lady Azalea what one was one.

"Why you heathen" said Olivia over hearing the inquiry. "Never heard of a Sing?

Giselle replied quietly. "I am a foreigner to the soil." And Olivia and Alicia nodded in unison. Olivia smiled and said.

" I am sorry."

Alicia giggled and said 'You should have said this earlier. Since you came we have thought you were only a quiet country mouse hard on her luck. But a foreigner explains all the odd quirks about you!"

"My lady?" Asked Giselle her brow furrowed in puzzlement.

"You wear a corset and you do not eat dessert and you do not sing well at all.'

"And you have an accent and you do not know hardly any songs! And you go to Temple before even the High Priest!"added Olivia.

"How do you know that!" cried Giselle."You aren't even awake yet. Even Cook is not awake yet."

"The High Priest told us of your early visits. He said that you are a contender for the most devote temple goer in the city. He sees you exiting the temple when the dawn lights up the 3rd step."

"The High priest watches me." Said Giselle turning an odd shade of pale. Lady Azalea smiled at her comfortingly.

"You see why you must go to Court Giselle? You are very pious and devote. That indeed makes one very worthy of any honor. You my child will be my new protegee and I shall be lauded as a great teacher."

'You are already a great teacher. Everyone knows of your great tutelage and how everyone has learned wisdom from your ruby lips! I don't see why my pious self has to go about the Court.' Giselle said with a touch of self depreciation.

"Mother, we are here." Announced Olivia hopping out form the carriage.

Her mother chastised her for not waiting for assistance.

"Honestly. No one is really watching" sighed Olivia. Her honeyed color curls bouncing as she shook her head.

Alicia and Olivia preceding them and Azalea striding toward the door of the quaint looking shop. 'Come on Giselle." muttered Azalea impatiently pulling the girl to fall in step..

As they entered the seemingly quaint shop a small transformation swirled before Giselle's eyes. It was not quaint at all. It had a pink marble floor with tapestried rugs lying on it and red velvet chaise lounges. There were also pink stuffed chairs and small glass tables. They were covered in books and plates on the various styles and fashions.

Giselle's eyes opened wide in recognition. Sitting in a pink chair was someone Giselle had thought she would never see again. Hoping that said person would not recognize her she cast her eyes to ceiling in a positively bored attitude. Thankfully the proprietress of the shop, Madame DeLouisrelle quickly whisked them back into the fitting rooms. But not before the seated figure shot her a once over, making chills spread over her back.

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	8. An Author's Note

Author's Note

Dearest Readers

I know I am not supposed to write this.

But Please Listen to me first.

I am so terribly grateful for your wonderful reviews and even for the time you take to read the story. I Check the Stats a lot.

I have found so much inspiration for this story from the wonderful comments about my cliffhangers and the "omg! what happens!"

School is tough at the moment. Too many test and exams before the Holiday. Quick note I am dashing off to show my gratitude because I just smile when my email says Review Alert.

Keep them coming they inspire me to painstakingly type

Gigi the Dancer

Ps Will update on Thursday before Christmas.


	9. Ch 8 The dressmakers

Please review! Be on the look out for grammatical errors but please enjoy the story. I tried to upload on Christmas Eve yet there was an error and then I just loafed about during the break. I have gone further on in the story in this posting. I hope you enjoy.

The back room of the shop was filled with different fabrics overflowing the couches, chairs and racks and measuring charts pasted to the walls along with fashion plates from twenty years ago.

Madame DeLouisrelle was a stately matron with a heavy full bosom and a very tall physique. She dwarfed lady Azalea who was 5 feet 9 inches. Madame Delouisrelle was like a giant but she had a pleasant husky voice and a strong and gentle grip as she laid a heavy hand on Giselle's shoulder to guide her to the piles of colored fabrics.

"What are My Lady's wishes for the new protogee?"

'Something to set her apart but not too dramatic to earn her ill favor."

"Choose some fabrics and some laces and ribbons. Lady Azalea and I will return after we have decided on the style of dress that will suit you Child."

Giselle Looked over her shoulder and smiled. "Thank you" she said.

"I am not finished" said Madame. "I want you to walk about. "

"Walk?" Asked Giselle.

'Yes go on walk normally." Giselle walked about the room. Sidestepping fallen cascades of silk and satin and maneuvering about the chairs and half cut out patterns she was painfully aware she was almost dancing.

"Yes" she heard Madame say. "She does have the gait of a dancer. Too bad no one dances here. She would charm everyone with that body of hers."

'Thank you Giselle" said Lady Azalea abruptly.

So Giselle went back to the fabrics and chose some nice satin ribbons and a deep green velvet and a black silk. She chose a beautiful cobalt blue satin and a thick black satin ribbon for it. She also chose a bright red silk and a beautifully patterned gold and plum brocade.

As she held the cloth to her body and imagined it fashioned into a full skirted dancing gown Madame DeLouisrelle 's assistants descended upon her. They were done with Alicia and Olivia who were waiting and having a cup of tea in an adjacent parlor. As they stood her on a wide box in the middle of the room they stripped her of her clothes.

Laughing at her for wearing a corset one of the assistants a pretty coffee colored one queried.

"Why do you wear a corset?"

'Doesn't your lover find it hard to undo?" added another

Giselle looked down and blushed. "I do not have a lover."

"Well when you do have one it will be easier for him if you don't have a corset. "

"Besides only older women wear corsets. They don't sing as much either.' chattered another assistant.

"Corsets only constrict the breathing" said Azalea adding her two coins.

The assistants chattered around her about how small her waist was without a corset " only 22 inches." Said the auburn tressed assistant.

"Don't you eat?" quipped one of the others.

"To eat is to keep one self from the world of the gods. I find it not necessary to eat, for it keeps me from attaining the majesty of the fire birds and the Lovely Goddess's favor.' Giselle replied.

They all gasped and stared at the young girl who was illustrating the worldliness with her hands. She smiled sadly. "The Old ways took root when I was young. I was a priestess once."

The assistants smiled and laughed. "And why are you not a priestess anymore?" questioned the red haired woman.

"I did something completely foolish and fell in love with a man who betrayed me.' said Giselle half truthfully. Indeed she had done just that but had not stopped being a priestess for that reason

"Oh Dear" sighed the assistants. "So you fell in love..."

And he did not come for me." finished Giselle.

"Indeed now with that declaration I can see why she only sings dirges." said Mme/ Delouisrelle to lady Azalea.

Azalea smiled and said "Her life from before is tragic. She came here to restart her life... And so she shall... with her presentation to Court."

'When is that?"

"As soon as she learns the right song. But later today she will come with us to learn her way about the Palace." said Azalea raising her voice so that Giselle could here it. Giselle nodded in response.

Later after the pleasant ordeal of dress shopping and after they all lunched at an outdoor cafe they went to the palace. There Alicia and Olivia went to gossip and chat with their friends. Lady Azalea took Giselle's arm and guided her along the corridors.

Leaving her in an empty, dark study, promising her she would not be disturbed; Lady Azalea went to find the Queen. "I need some advice about you and she is the best woman for it." said Azalea as her bright blue skirts swished in her wake,

The room had no windows and so she had nothing to do. Who knows how long Azalea would chat with the Queen? Sighing Giselle sat in an overstuffed green velvet chair. It was situated in front of an empty fireplace and across from the large richly gleaming carved wooden door.

A desk and some chairs scattered about the room with large tomes of leather bound books gave the room a dreary air. A portrait over the fireplace was large and in an odd style she noticed. The style was not the same as the paintings from Azalea's chateau so it must be newer but not quite. It had to be twenty years old now.

This portrait was of a proud man dressed in blue uniform. It was the uniform of the famed Dragon Slayers, knights and warriors who were the best of the best on this continent. The blue cloth was embroidered with a rearing dragon on the left breast and had a row of buttons down the right side. The pants had a gold stripe down it and the arms had a gold drizzle of cord. She supposed he was a captain with the size of his epaulets. The man rested his right hand on the hilt of his sword and in his left it draped across a purple colored book on a desk. Musical instruments like a trumpet and a violin punctured the background which was the very same study she was in.

The man had serious blue eyes that had a hint of laughter in them. His nose was strong and straight. His lips were full and soft but had a grim set to them as though he had seen many things. She judged him to be about 20 or 22. Thick locks of mahogany colored hair was combed back into a short tail. His coloring was dark like someone who was in the sun a lot and his left hand bore a strong scar across it.

Standing up and going to the portrait to read the plaque at the bottom she heard someone enter the room. "You!" barked a commanding voice. She looked up startled. Standing behind the desk was a tall thin man with dark black hair. He was dressed in an official uniform.

'My lord" she said curtsying. "My lady told me to wait here for her."

'Yes Lady Azalea. " Said the man. "You are her protegee. Come the King and the Court are waiting for you."

"But my Lord I was told in a few weeks I would be presented."

"Well right **Now** the Court is waiting for you to sing. They do not want anyone else and you can just wing it. Besides if we do not go now then **some**one will get whipped."

He grasped Giselle's wrist tightly and tugged her towards the desk.

"What are you doing my lord!" she cried fear lacing her voice as pain lanced through her wrist.

"Do not be scared. It won't hurt" he said grimly pushing her behind the desk.

"What! What my lord Marek are you doing with my protogee?" Azalea walked into the room.

"My Lady. " said Giselle stunned and feeling nauseaous. She hated being in situations like these... "I..."she started trying to explain.

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	10. Chapter 9

"She is being presented to Court. Now.' said Marek.

"She is not ready."

"But she has to. The court is waiting, The King is waiting." He pulled Giselle and suddenly the wall behind the desk moved aside to reveal a glittering room. Swirls and swatches of color were blazoned across the room. Women in brightly colored dresses and men in uniforms with shining brass buttons all were awaiting her. As Lord Marek pulled her in front of the thrones that stood to her right she gulped.

"I am not ready." she whispered urgently frantically to the impatient man pulling her.

"Too late for that." he said as he bowed grandly to the tall, stately pair in the thrones. As she slowly looked up to quietly peruse the much talked about king and queen, she gasped. The man in the protrait was the king. He was well aged . His hair was shorter and his face a bit more lined but there still was the strong nose and grim, beautiful mouth. His hand bore the telling scar.

Bowing reverently she crossed her right hand over her breast as she was taught. "Good day great warrior, protector of the weak." she said courteously as she had been taught to say by the other priestesses when a great man entered her presence. The man gave a chuckle.

"Well." he said as she felt his eyes appreciatively run across her form. " You are the esteemed Lady Azalea's new protegee."

"Not only am I so very new Master but I have not prepared for this great honor of our meeting." she said.

"Ah. I see now why you have fear in your voice. Here I was believing you to be a murderer or a thief."

"My Lord?"

"You great me in the way only the elders still know. Yet you have fear in your voice."

"I have fear in my voice because I have am not prepared to sing. My esteemed teacher has not yet trained me in the art of singing as she has hoped to help me in my deplorable way of manners and dressing. You will forgive me and perhaps I shall not be fearful."

" I will if you sing for me. " said the King.

"Indeed gracious lord. It is my honor and privilege to sing for a servant of the gods." said Giselle again kowtowing. She then glanced about the room. Randomly spotted amongst the courtiers were instruments and music stands. Golden harps and shiny black pianos littered the tiled floors.

Gracefully gliding to the harp situated near a large window she sat on the tiny painted pink stool behind it. Stepping on a pedal and checking the sound she slowly played a scale or two. The chords were thin and hard between her calloused fingers. Plucking it and strumming it she played and sang softly until she thought she was suffueceintly warmed up.

" I have not prepared a piece of music to sing. I do not know any of your country's songs except the hynms. "

"Well then you may sing whatever you wish."

'I..." she said casting about for a song that she knew, that ddin't mention dancing. She did not know much. "I shall sing you the lay of the war of the Ahees.' She sang slowly a song that told of a great war that happened in centuries long past and yet this war was important for that is where the rift came from. The rift of the gods and how they were worshipped

I loved him

more than the earth loves rain.

I loved him.

The knights rode out dragon rider

to fight the battle and win

They rode upon steeds of fire

they rode upon horses of strength.

They had armour that shined in the sunlight

and saddles of sturdiest leather---

They went to claim our land

and defeat our foes and keep our houses safe.

They went to battle.

Battle of great lengths.

I sat on the steps of the castle

thinking of the times that we had.

And wishing that the war would over

before the battles got bad.

I did not want him to go.

He Said for honour and duty

I reluctantly let his hand go

and went to the crenillons to wait.

I sat at the top of the tower and watched the green grass grow----

I waited through the summer into the winter and snow

They fought great battles and won great honour

to the glory of our Houses.--

They lost great life and men and worthy steeds of fire.

Great foreign Dragons were seen on the horizon gleaming with metal….

Men waited for dawn, until the sun rose

upon the hills and valleys and then….

Great strife began.

Men and horse and dragons

Fought together that day against our foes and enemies

who sought to wipe us away

They wanted our land and our cattle

Our wives and our sons

They wanted our daughters and sisters

They wanted everything and every one.

They wanted our grain and our meat

They wanted our lives and our fortunes

they wanted our prosperity---

The battle was long and bloody

We heard the cries and groans

They wanted the death of our protectors

They wanted the blood to spill.

I ran. I ran forth from the keep to the tents of the battle.

Bypassing the wounded and writhing

and forging past the dead .

Machinations of war did not hinder my progress

As I ran swiftly towards the utter chaos of battle.

I saw him, my beloved. He was threr

the strains of battle on his face

His dragon wings' were drooping

and their voices together pierced the air hoarsely I

n the ancient calls of battle.

An Arrow struck his dragon

strong and true in the eye.

The poor creature shrieked in pain

and the rider too had a look of pain on his face.

The rider called out words of healing for his partner

but the creature was mortally wounded.

My beloved on foot now fought courageously and fierce

as I watched helpless on the edge of the fray.

Tearing down the towers of flesh and bone

that were our enemies

the battle field lessened. Soon

men and dragons and horses were

reduced down to a fraction.

Soon only the last dragon fell and soon

The men were only able to be counted on one hand.

My beloved fought and then ina afierce duel between him

And a blue armored knight. He was struck

Struck. I scremed and watched helplessly as my beloved

Fell to the warrior. Slicing him the knight turned to defeat another of our warriors.

I ran slowly through the blood slicked grass.

I knelt there with my beloeved in my lap.

I cradled him as I tried to recite the spells of healing.

He gasped with pain. Calling my name he said

"I have failed you." he said.

"No never" I cried as I repeated the oath to the country.

"You have fulfilled the oath and have protected us."

I tried to heal him as he clasped my cloak weakly.

He gasped the words "I love you."

And expired.

I looked down upon my beloved .

The strains of battle and the care of honour had weighed upon him

They had creased his tan face and made him look older.

Yet now the spectre of death had smoothed his brow,

Like a mother does to her son.

The specter of death had given him a small thing of peace

Which now would never be fulfilled in our lifetme.

I looked down upon my beloved.

And I knew there was nothing left for me.

He was gone and I had no family.

I had no mentor, I had no Mistress.

I was alone, utterly and completely.

I stood up and calmly evenly walked north of the blood stained grass.

I stood upon clean grass just north of the battlefield.

I started to run. I started to sprint

I ran to the cliff north of the battlefield.

I would jump off and give myself to the River god in the small rift far below.

I was there on the edge.

I was there.

I could smell the water.

And then strong arms gripped me.

Strong arms pulled me away.

I struggled.

I cried. I pleaded, I begged and then the strong arms revealed themselves.

I was in the arms of the blue knight.

He spoke to me in the odd language----

He spoke to me again.

I struggled and then suddenly I was being carried

away upon the broad shoulder of the knight.

I was being taken towards the other row of tents.

I feared.

I screamed to the healers, for someone to come save me.

The row of wounded squires dragging dead bodies from the field

Looked at me.

They shook their heads and said they were helpless.

And I cried.

Read and review! And more poem/story is there. Giselle is not finished with her song. It is long and will probably take a few chapters to write. Anyway. Mid year Finals are upon me. And I am drowning so I decided to write a chapter.


	11. Chapter 10 The Debutante

A/N So... I haven't updated in a long time. I have now because someone wrote me and said Update. So I have. The reason I have not is because I lost interest in the story and was like "where shall I go from here?" So many possibilties. And I wrote a lot but you know when you have an inspiration and are typing so fast and you forget to save every so often? well... And then the musical practices are keeping us forever and then my crush asked me out on Valentine's Day. So this is my first Bf. I am on holiday break. And nothing else is new. I shall try to update more often.

Be on alert for grammatical mistakesgigi

Giselle paused in this point of her lay. It was a beautiful tragic tale from her homeland, of the woman who came to know and understand the rift between the dancers and the singers. It was here in this tale that followed the woman through her perils in the enemy camp that she caused the rift between the two sects. It was here in this tale where dancing became forbidden. She paused glancing at the floor.

The King and the courtiers were looking at her expectantly. She stood from the harp her skirt pooling about her ankles. Her feet were slim and bare looking without any ornamentation on her black shoes. She had no chain on her ankle or bow to her shoe. After contemplating the style of the impossibly tall heels the women courtiers were wearing she looked up shyly. Glancing at the handsome sovereign she asked him softly if he wanted to hear the rest of the tale.

He smiled encouragingly and said "We all are at your mercy. We await the end on pins and needles."

Giselle nodded solemnly and began again, her voice becoming harsh in tone and staccato in rhythm with plucking of the strings to convey the fear of the girl.

The blue armored knight flung me

on a pile of furs. A young slave brought him

water and clean clothes.

Of which he changed

into wordlessly.

As he finished,

He barked an order,

to the pale skinned slave.

The young boy scurried off to do the task.

The boy appeared

a moment (Separation means sta-catt-o)

later leading a

Beautiful lady.

She spoke softly in my own language.

The Master wants to know said the lady

Why wished you to jump off the cliffs?

And I stared. I am alone.-----

Alone.

Alone.

He is dead.

My love, my life.

Dragon rider,

protector of the weak,

dead at my feet

Am. Alone.

I gasped and then I sobbed and then I broke down crying.

He grasped me by the shoulders.

His arms were strong.

His grasp was tight.

He spoke.

The lady translated,

"He says that the warrior of the great green tree.

He was yours?"

I nodded slowly. His eyes searched my face and suddenly a fierce and

deadly looked passed into his eyes.

"You are mine now."He said in my own language.

I gasped. "I do not want to be yours."

His gripped my shoulders now and I knew that I could not escape.

I became his slave. Unlike the beautiful lady I was not given robes of honor.

Nor was I given red gold slave bands.

I was given steel slave bands on my ankles and wrists.

Like the pale boy I was to sleep in his own tent.

We went across the seas.

We floated on the icy waters of slate.

Soon we crossed into the strange lands,

warm with the hint of spring.

I lived and soon I loved.

Spring came into the black depths of my heart.

The chasm of bitterness and loss

burst with the firm green shoots of passion.

My master took pride in his spoils.

He would parade me in front of the other blue bloods.

They would watch me

sing and dance.

I fell in love with a comrade at arms of my masters.

He was a landless knight. A knight with no ties to anything

except maybe his family.

And so I danced for him. And so we loved.

Master found out and gave me to him.

Yet that did not stop the jealousy of the other warriors.

Why does the Commandant favor him with a prize slave,"

they all grumbled. And they plotted.

The plotting led to his downfall

and then I was blamed. His great blood spotted my hands.

My new master said he was suspect of my innocence

and so he turned me out.

He gave me my freedom.

And so I am. I am adrift again with no one and nothing.

Except the Goddess's favor to keep me alive...

Giselle's voice held out the husky note. She could not keep on with the tale without incriminating herself or the people of the country. So she ended her tale to eyes that glistened with unshed tears and streaks of peach showing through the white mask of many courtiers.

"A heart wrenching song, my dear," said the King warmly. "I thoroughly enjoyed your descriptions of the battlefield. Not bloody enough to haunt us nor too gentle to make us forget the war." The King smiled at her.

IN the time in which she bowed her reverence to the royal sovereigns, the courtiers occupied themselves by fixing their powdered faces and predicting her popularity in the Court.

"She will be quite well requested. She has a wonderfully well trained wit and an amusing tone of voice." declared a women with a pink powdered wig on. This was one of Lady Azalea's great friends. She made up for her obvious lack of style with a great loyalty and unswerving faith in her friend.

So she obviously would laud Azalea's apprentice. But for some odd instinctual reason Duchess Maeve, had a way of be unerringly right in her predictions. She had not mind you, commented on her voice. Maeve had commented on her wit and humor.

"Oh indeed." Answered Maeve's younger lover, a man with dark hair and looks to match his name, Corby. "She also has a luscious body and a pretty voice...Not my lady that she is more beautiful than you." he said gazing adoringly at the bewigged matron who blushed and giggled.

Giselle slowly after overhearing that exchange from the discord of beautiful voices thrown together in such a melee went to find a secluded spot.

Court had found another creature to which it bestowed its attention to and Giselle crept out of the throne room to a boy's soprano lifted in exultation of the beauty of a Winter morning. She traversed the random hallways and corridors of the palace looking for a small spot in which she would be easily found by Azalea but also secluded enough to relax in.

It was on the second floor off a large hallway. It was a small room in which there was a fountain in a corner and scattered chairs and benches. It had large windows and mirrors to let in and magnify the light. She supposed it was a sewing closet for the ladies of the court.

She relaxed and sat down on the long black marble bench. Allowing herself to slouch for a minute she pondered what to do for the long period of awaiting Lady Azalea.

She shrugged and throwing her legs out on either side of her she started to stretch out her legs and hips.

Intensely concentrating on her left calf muscle and lower back she did not notice her visitor. When she turned to stretch out her right calf did she notice the tall and handsome man in front of her.

Blushing she folded her legs together and pulled her skirts down over her legs. To think that a man had seen her so wantonly displaying her legs and she was not dancing.

After quite along time of awkward silence she furtively glanced up at the man. He looked strangely familiar, the strong nose and full lips brought back memories of dancing.

"Helidoro?" she asked tentatively.

Well... this is nice. Oh yes and the Winter Olympics are on. They take up so much TV time. But They are the best ever. I Love Ice skating and ice dancing. R and R (which does not mean Rest and Relaxation.)


	12. Chapter 11

I left you, my readers in suspense for a month and a half.Please forgive me the sit was not allowing us to post for a wee bit. My sincere apologies and I hope you continue reading. If anything confuses or you would suggest to help the plot move faster please drop a note. Open to suggestions especially of the pacing. Love GIGI

"Helidoro?" she asked tentatively.

"Giselle?" he in turn responded, staring shocked at her face.

"What are you doing here?" she cried as she slowly stood up. "What happened to you? How _are_ you?"

"Why did you run off? Why did you run off with that... that _man_ during the Winter Festival?"

"_I_ did not run off, Heliodoro. _You_ did. I waited for you. I was there at the Winter festival but you... You were gone. And ...things... happened at the winter Festival. I _had_ to leave."

"Yes I heard of how you romanced the High Priest...and that you slept with Lord Lamontev to get your dancing slippers. I can't believe you slept with Lamontev. Didn't I ever tell you the story between us?" He said angrily grasping her bruised wrist. She winced in pain but Heliodoro did not even notice so very incensed was he.

"No. Never. I_ did not _ realize the history between you. But _where_ were you during the Winter Festival?"

"I was in battle. I am a warrior, if you did not notice Giselle."

"Oh of course. But we were not at war with anyone..."

"Did it not ever occur to you that I might not be from the Terpsichorea? That I was..."

She realized something. It crashed onto her like a storm surge, a knowledge making itself known to her. "You do not carry an accent. You never did. You sound..." She stopped as she noticed his voice. He sounded like Lady Azalea did. He only carried an accent when he wished.

"That I sound what Giselle?" He did not have an accent but to her foreign ears she understood that he was native to this land. He also could speak just like her, with her soft accent. "You were born here, in this land?"

"Yes. Of course!... Giselle, I am sorry. I meant to tell you one day."

"Yes. Of course, the day we would run off together in the sunset." She gestured with her free hand. " Away from the High Priest's gaze and the wrath of the Princess...Oh. Heliodoro. She is here. In this country. Why would she be here? Whatever would make her come here? I am devoted to the gods, I have never _really _sinned. Why must I always be punished? What have I ever done?" She turned and looked pleadingly into Heliodoro's eyes.

"Oh. Giselle... Princess Grace is here to err... wed the Crown Prince. And the whole regiment of Dragon Slayers was called home from the patrol to witness his wedding."

"She is... _staying_ here?... Oh the Gods must really hate me! I cannot go back home because of her nor will I be able to avoid her."

"And why can't you avoid her?" asked Heliodoro.

"Don't you know that I have become the protogee of Lady Azalea..."

"Lady Azalea?" Interrupted the handsome youth. " I knew you're a good dancer and you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen but Azalea's successor... By the Gods! You sure have a way with people..."

"Is this a good thing what you have just said?"

"I am amazed...Dance with me."

"What? I don't think I heard you right Heliodoro.."

"Yes. I said dance with me." He bowed and held out his hand.

"Dancing is forbidden..."

"But no one will know, for old times' sake."

"_No. _I cannot. I haven't danced..."

"But you love me. And you will dance with me because you still love me."said Heliodoro.

Giselle bit her lip. No one really could see. It was a closed room and there weren't many windows. Besides Heliodoro was a wonderful dancer, so very strong and secure were his arms, his caress soft and he was very steady and stable on his feet.

"Okay but no more. This is the ONLY time I dance."

"Yes my darling." He kissed her forehead as he pulled her into an embrace and they started the footwork for an intricate waltz.The silent music pulsed and kept time. Was it really only her heartbeat or was it his? She didn't know and as she flew across the medium sized room she only knew that dancing was forbidden but it felt so right when she was in his arms, and they were spinning through the air.


	13. Chapter 12 Lightly

"I feel so dizzy."

Giselle lay down on her mattress after her chores were done. She had come back from court and had cleaned the kitchen as promised. Heliodoro was back and he loved her. Ah! She felt so light and fluffy like a pastry from the renowned bakery down the street.

She felt again completed like a tapestry. What was once unraveled was redone. She was completed again. She sighed content and looked up at her ceiling. The wooden ceiling had no cracks in it due to it being a guest room above her. She looked up at the smooth undersides of the wood and contemplated her life.

She was slowly becoming accepted by Lady Azalea's friends and acquaintances which happened to include most of the Court. She was welcomed like a daughter by the Queen, Azalea's close companion. The Queen herself had no daughters only sons and so treated Azalea's daughters and now her protogee like her own children. Giselle did like the Queen. Whereas Azalaea was strict the Queen was compassionate. She had a soft spot for tragic stories and loved Giselle's own story. She too had thought that Giselle had much talent but had warned too that 'Dancing was forbidden" and here was Giselle's new dilemma.

She had danced. Her feet had felt free. Her body had twisted and turned with Heliodoro to praise the Gods. She had been free, her body had housed the spirit of happiness and love. She slowly got off her cot and looked underneath it. There was her sack, her canvas bag she had traveled with. Neatly patched yet stained with food spills and weathered it had safely held her possessions when she had been exiled.

The shamans here had no use for any of the things she brought. They had told her to burn her dancing shoes, "as it is forbidden!"

They had told here that the incense sticks she had always prayed with were inferior to be offered to the Gods. They had told her coins were useless and they were only fit to be thrown in the wishing fountain. They had looked over her clothes, and told her they were only fit for a beggar or a prostitute.

So she had prayed that first day off of the boats. She had gone to the temple and had prayed fervently, earnestly. She was a stranger there. A woman in a white dress, the one she wore when she was an accolyte but now she was a spurned and outcasted exile. She was a wanderer searching for a place.

And after she had spent the day in the Temple the only familiar place in an unknown land (and even then it was not as familiar as the Temple in Sangria) she had met the man who would hire her to work in the house. She had met him only once before he had died but he had hired her even though she was an outcast.

She had worked there in Azalea's household, and had mourned the death of the kind man who had taken a chance when no one else would. Lady Azalea had remarked upon her voice once when she had come to the kitchens. And that was when Giselle had put away her old shoes. That day she had bought new shoes, black sensibly heeled slippers. And that was when she had told her story to Lady Azalea.


	14. Chapter 13

An update! What joy. Sound the trumpets, I have returned. And I might intedn to finish this. I have high hopes and desires for this story, but I might have them a little misplaced. I am checking it out and seeing overlooking my framing of this story. Bear with me and love me. Send me reviews so I know my devoted followers are out there. With love

Gigi (ps. I am now a beta...If you care to test my skillz...)

She had told her story to Lady Azalea, hping it would help cleanse her stained and careworn soul. It did not help only dragging her further along a winding path back again to her past, to her destined path of precise steps and willowy arms. Here the object of her affections and love, the man whom she loved and the woman who was her enemy had come back to her out of her not so far away past. The Gods indeed did toy with her.

She had tried to make a new life here and yet she seemed to have failed. Despair seemed to seep into her soul. The shades would dance to her to death, she thought as she gazed unblinking at the wooden ceiling beams. Lady Azalea did indeed enjoy her company and all of the court liked her, yet she knew that soon she would trip right off of the delicately strained wire. She would dance completely off of it, into the great unknown, into the thin air that surrounds nothingness. She was fading and yet...

Why, she wondered did her heart beat so fast? Why did Heliodoro love her still? Should he not, as he was supposed to, have transferred his affections to the beautiful and vindictive incarnation that was the Princess. And should she as a fearful worshipper of the Gods, slip into the shadows for the moment, so that they might not cross paths?

She sighed and allowed her shoulders to relax, feeling them laying even and flat against her hard mattress. Everything seemed to be flat and hard here, she reflected as she closed her eyes. The gowns were silk but yet grew stiff with the soaps they washed it in. The corsets and the hard boning in them, the hard roads cut deeply by the ruts of wagons and carts. The people's faces, their love for dancing and twirling, color and light bleached out by the sublime beauty of song. They did not love the mystery and swirl of dancing in the moonlight in the heavy air perfumed with incense, but were more loving of the clean smell of rain drops and stillness. The notes of a beautiful pitch soaring out of the nothingness.

And so it was. Giselle pulled up her blanket and slept, dreams of horrifyingly beautiful ghosts chasing her, set to the wailing of mourners.


End file.
